


Dwarf Mistletoe

by Schadenfreude



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Prompt Fic, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 22:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfreude/pseuds/Schadenfreude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little something written for the MFSF Secret Santa fic exchange at christmas. The prompt read "Playful kissing with Martin turns into Dom/sub play once he grabs a handful of hair and pulls hard, and then finds out how much it turns you both on."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dwarf Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> My regret with this story was that I couldn't find a way to factor Amanda in. I promise to remedy that oversight soon! -xx

  
As you wait for the lift to creak its way to the 5th floor, you muse on what a lovely evening it's been, as costly as it may have been. It turns out tickets to New Zealand, at the last minute, at Christmas time, don't come cheap. Lesson learned. It was worth every penny though, just to have the chance to see Martin lit up as he is now, tipsy after the Christmas party and flailing wildly as he tells you his latest, quite possibly filthiest yet, joke. You just smile gently and rest your head against the wall of the lift.

As the lift chimes and the doors open you open your eyes to find Martin has stopped talking and is standing so close that his nose is resting against the tip of your nose. You giggle and quickly flick your tongue up to lick the tip of his nose before swiftly ducking out of the lift and away from Martin’s grasp. You race to the hotel room door and fumble around in your purse for the key card. Martin has caught up and is standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. He seems content to stand there nibbling at the back of your neck in that distracting way only he can.

“Not… helping…”  you mutter.

Finally your fingers find the key card at the bottom of your purse. You pull it out and swipe it with a dramatic flourish. Stumbling through the door, you hear Martin trip through the doorway behind you. Before you realise what’s happening, he is leaning against the now closed door and spins you to face him before pulling you into his embrace. Leaning into him, you smile, happier in this moment than any person has a right to be.

“Merry Christmas” he breathes gently against your lips, leaning in to brush against them.

“Merry mmMmmm” you couldn’t wait to finish your sentence, so you mumble the "Christmas” into his mouth as you kiss him hungrily.

Martin pulls back with a chuckle.

“Cheeky!”.

You pout. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“I can and I will. You still haven’t noticed the gift I got for you.”

Warily, you turn slowly, scanning the room carefully. “I don’t see anything…” Turning back to Martin you reach out and pat him down. As you reach to pull his pants out by the waistband , looking for your present of course, he slaps your hand away.

“NOT there. Can’t you see it? You’d make a rubbish Sherlock.”

“So would you. Too short.”

You’re still grinning as he reaches out to brush a finger under your chin, gently raising it until you are almost staring at the ceiling. After a moment’s confusion you notice something limp and somewhat green taped to the wall above the door. It reminds you of the masses of seaweed you found yourself surrounded by at a beach once.

“Martin, is that SEAWEED on the wall?”

“Yes, yes it is. I climbed up there and stuck seaweed to the wall. I thought it would be hilarious. No. No I didn’t. It’s not seaweed, it’s mistletoe!”

“That’s not mistletoe.”

“It is too. It’s called Dwarf Mistletoe. It’s a New Zealand native mistletoe.”

Looking incredulously between the mistletoe and the proud look on Martin’s face, you can’t help but burst into laughter.

“So let me get this straight. You, the hobbit, put up DWARF mistletoe? That’s a little egocentric isn’t it?”

Without warning you find yourself spun around and your back pinned to the door.

“You.” Martin kisses you gently, belying his brusque tone. “Need to learn.” Another quick kiss, “Your Tolkien.” You smile against Martin as he punctuates each word with a kiss. “ Hobbits. Are. Not. Dwarves.”

“If this is how you admonish me, I’ll have to be ignorant more often.”

Martin growls and you find yourself pressed firmly against the door, pinned there by  Martin’s body. You struggle a little but find Martin is allowing you no give. He captures your mouth with his own. This time it's his kiss that is hungry, crushing your mouth as his tongue flicks your lips open before licking into your mouth, searching. You nibble at his bottom lip. He pulls back and you take the moment to steal some kisses of your own before you nuzzle into his neck. You kiss a trail to just below his ear. Martin moans and tilts his head to the side, baring his throat to your ministrations. He slides a hand behind your neck, urging you on, wanting more. The sight of that expanse of neck under your mouth is irresistible. One quick, chaste kiss, then without warning, you grasp that vulnerable skin between your teeth. One quick bite, swiftly followed by a soothing swipe of your tongue over the abused flesh.

Not expecting the bite, Martin yelps and the hand on your neck grabs your hair, pulling you away from his neck. The sharp pain as he pulls cuts through the haze of pleasure.  A ripple of sensation courses through your body and you gasp as sense memory kicks in. It has been a long time since you played rough and never with Martin. Still, your body remembers. Before you realise it your back has straightened and your hands are grasped behind your back. You hold your head high, chin tilted up. Martin is letting go of your hair, an apology dying on his lips as he takes in the sight of you standing before him, head tilted high. You are trying to control your breathing but it is laboured. Your eyes are wide and your mouth parted slightly, the barest hint of a smile teasing at the edges. He meets your eyes and you hold his gaze.

“Oh.” It’s barely a whisper, escaping Martin’s mouth like a sigh. His fingers thread back through your hair and he pulls again, slowly and surely this time, studying your face, reading your reaction. Led by Martin’s hand, your head tilts back further with a low moan. Holding you in place, Martin leans forward and mouths at your exposed throat. The sensation of pleasure and pain is blinding and another low, throaty moan is drawn from you. Martin hums as he feels the moan against his lips. The hand in your hair tugs sharply and your legs begin to give way as your body gives itself over to Martin completely. Martin catches you for a moment, then pulls away to search your face once more. You nod almost imperceptibly. At that Martin guides you by the hand still in your hair, to your knees.  

Martin braces himself with one hand against the wall behind you and begins to undo his trousers. He has his belt open and the top button undone before you quickly brush his hand away. His appreciation for the turn events have taken is obvious, his cock straining at the seams of his trousers. Hungrily you mouth at the hard outline through the material. You explore the length of his cock, feeling how hard he is under your mouth. Soon the front of his trousers are soaking wet from your mouth and you need more. You grasp the zip between your teeth and carefully lower it. You then nuzzle the edges of the trousers aside, reaching out with your hands only to free Martin’s cock from his pants. It juts out, so very hard. At least Martin is enjoying this as much as you are. You run your fingertips along the length, marvelling as you often do at how soft the skin is, at the contrast between that wonderfully soft, silky skin and how it moves over the hard flesh beneath. You lick one long swipe along the underside, tasting, testing. Martin tugs your hair once more, forcing your face up. You meet his eyes with a grin and lick your lips lasciviously. He groans and you could swear it sounds like “wanton”. With his eyes never leaving you, Martin guides your mouth onto his cock. He lets go once you have half of his length sitting on your tongue, both hands now holding him up against the wall. You don’t stop though. Continuing the slow, smooth motion, you relax your throat and take his cock deep into your throat, only stopping once your lips rest at the base. You swallow experimentally, your throat working over the tip of Martin’s cock. He grinds out a loud “FUCK” above you and you feel his legs shudder. You grip your wrists once more behind your back. Remaining motionless, mouth fully encased around his cock, you look up at Martin, waiting to catch his eye. As soon as he does the message is clear. Control. He has it.  

“Bloody hell.” Martin reaches down with both hands, brushing his thumbs reverently along your cheekbones. Fingers trace down and brush your lips where they are stretched around him. You close your eyes in pleasure and brush your tongue along the underside of his cock. Without warning, Martin grabs your head with both hands and pulls back before sliding back into your throat once more. He does this one more time before he then begins fucking your mouth in earnest. Holding your head he is losing himself in the moment, head thrown back, thrusting mindlessly into your mouth. It is all you can do to keep your balance as you focus on gasping breaths in every chance you get. As Martin’s thrusts begin to become erratic, you know he is close.

“Stop,” you hear him cry above you “STOP”.

You know he can only be addressing himself, as he is the only person in control. When he lets go of your head though, you’re sure to pull back quickly. You cast your eyes down at the floor, panting for breath.

When Martin has regained his composure, he stands, watching you for long moments. Eventually you glance up at him and he meets your eyes.

“Take off your clothes, pet.”

Martin helps you stand to do so. His gaze is a heavy weight on you, following your hands as they undo your dress, peeling it down to the floor. You keep your eyes lowered as you unclip your bra, tossing it aside with your dress. Martin steps over and runs a finger down your back, sliding it under your knickers, trailing them down with the finger. For long moments you stand completely naked as Martin circles around you, admiring your body. Without warning he brings his hand down hard, slapping your arse cheek. You jump and the loud crack echoes through the otherwise silent room. Martin hums.

“You blush beautifully, love.”

He traces fingertips feather soft across the red blush blooming across where his hand had warmed the skin. The soft touch is torturous and you shiver beneath it.  

“Bed.” Martin’s voice is husky. You walk to the bed and kneel on it, waiting for Martin to join you. He has taken off his belt and is holding it in his hands. He walks over to the bed and holds out his hand, palm up. It takes you a moment to realise what he wants. You place your right hand in his and he guides it to the bed-head. The stretch leaves you leaning forward on your knees, bracing yourself with your left hand.  He loops the belt through itself, inside out and ties the loose end to the bed-head. He then guides your right hand into the loop of the belt and pulls on it to tighten it. You test it a little, pulling your hand gently. As you do, the belt tightens around it.  Martin follows the stretch of your arm with his fingertips, trailing them down your sides. He then leans over and takes your left hand out from under you. With your support gone, your face is pressed into the mattress. You turn it to the side so you can breathe as Martin guides your left hand up to join the right within the loop of the belt. Both hands are now fastened together above your head.  Martin’s presence disappears from your now limited view for a few moments. When he returns, he is completely naked. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Ok?” he asks softly.

“Oh god yes!”

Martin smiles and stands up, swatting a quick but firm slap on your arse. You feel the bed dip as Martin climbs behind you. He reaches down and without any warning plunges a finger deep into you. You are already so wet from the evening’s play. Martin sighs and adds another finger. He twists his wrist so that he can flick at your clit with his thumb whilst he works the other two fingers within you. You moan with desperation, grinding backwards onto his hand.

“Naughty naughty.” Martin takes his hand away and you whimper with the loss. He climbs up your body and turns your head sideways. He then slides his fingers dripping with your juices into your mouth. You lick and suck hungrily at them, lathing them clean with your tongue. Martin leans forward and kisses you, licking into your mouth, tasting you within it. He slides back slightly and before you know it his cock is sliding into you in one swift movement, biting your shoulder in the same instant. You cry out, trying to scramble backwards towards him, desperate for as much contact as possible. Martin pushes your shoulders down into the mattress. With each thrust against you, your body is pressed further and further up the mattress. You grip the head-board, trying to gain purchase.  Martin holds your hips still as he fucks you relentlessly. He leans forward, resting along your back.

“You’re beautiful” he gasps. His hips snap forward and with a cry he straightens upright, scraping his nails along your back from shoulder to arse as he does. The trails burn in his wake and you arch up with a cry. Your legs wrap around Martin's and hold him to you as the two of you ride the waves of your orgasms together, shuddering violently.  

Eventually, Martin falls on the bed beside you. He reaches up to loosen the belt enough that you slide your hands free before he folds you into a warm embrace. You wrap a leg over his hip and lean up into a soft, deep kiss. “Feel free to stick seaweed to the walls anytime you please.”

Martin slaps your arse playfully and growls “ _mistletooooe_ ” into your ear and nibbles the lobe. You can’t help but think perhaps seaweed might just be your new favourite Christmas tradition.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you with a horticultural kink (sure it's a thing), this is a picture of New Zealand native Dwarf Mistletoe, aka Korthalsella Salicornioides > http://lh3.ggpht.com/-PPvTEFGFdPY/R2r2W2o9TlI/AAAAAAAAB10/r26Df9KT1NA/20071211-_IGP1895.jpg
> 
> It reminds me of Neptune's Necklace seaweed (aka Hormosira banksii), a native to Australia and New Zealand, seen here > http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTEYp6sttbZmL0t2IpoxmImHNGXq25lpuEP8Up96Dp_5W2OnHNO .


End file.
